I noticed something weird a few nights ago. I got up from the sofa to go do something elsewhere in my apartment, noticed that the front door was unlocked, and decided to leave it that way until it was time for bed. I was working from home, I wasn’t going anywhere, and my dog is at my sister’s so I wasn’t even going to take her outside. It’s such a small thing, but it’s uncharacteristically me. I always lock all my doors when I’m home. But I’ve been leaving this door unlocked for a few weeks now, and it was the first time I noticed. Maybe it carried a subconscious message of the possibility of “out there,” and with it a calming effect.
Who knows?
The reality is that the last few weeks have been, for lack of a better word, different. I’m usually a homebody and spend a lot of time on my own, but this doesn’t feel like that. I now find myself seeking connection. Not someone to talk to, not someone romantically, but someone to be with in silence or someone who I know can relate. Connection.
I started therapy a few months ago
I’m thankful that I’ve been able to continue my sessions over video conferencing. I mentioned this connection issue to my therapist and she of course said it was normal, which I already knew, so that still left me with this heavy feeling, and after listening to myself talk for an hour, I concluded that my issue wasn’t the feeling itself, but the stigma that comes with talking about it out loud.
But why not say it out loud?
When we’re talking about families on lockdown during this pandemic, we can all imagine and empathize with their situation, but when it’s someone who is alone, we don’t give as much weight to any potential struggles because… well, I don’t actually know the because. I just know that I feel obligated to keep a brave face and only mention my feelings if I’m poking fun at them.
You go deal with that shit in private, missy!
So I keep trying. I want to be one of the people making the best of it. Currently, I’m not the person cooking fun meals, or taking this time to get my fitness on, or writing the next great novel. I’m the person who is mentally paralyzed. I know a million things that I could do better myself, but I’m still working a full schedule 5 days a week, and besides documenting this time with a daily photo, that’s all I seem to have energy for.
Hell, I typed the title of this blog four days ago
It’s only now that I’m getting to the rest of it. My plan is to make this a series thereby reviving my love of writing. That’s the plan.
A Libby Blog 